


Kiss with a Fist

by bboiseux



Series: CR2 Short Stuff [1]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Blood, Broken Bones, C2E001, Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, Face Punching, Punching, Violent Flirting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-13
Updated: 2018-01-13
Packaged: 2019-03-04 03:04:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13355166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bboiseux/pseuds/bboiseux
Summary: Yasha and Beauregard have a sparring match.  How else was this going to go?





	Kiss with a Fist

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write this an hour in to the new campaign and THEN they actually interacted. Oh boy.
> 
> Title from the Florence + the Machine song. I really just had to.

Beau shook out her arms and circled, swaggering as she moved, “I’ll let you decide when you’re ready.”  She ran a knuckle across her nose and sniffed, “I’m always ready.”

Yasha’s response was as flat and unenthusiastic as usual, “Yes, I’m sure you’re super ready.”  Without another word she advanced towards the bouncing form of the monk.  Her heavy feet pounded the ground and her dark hair flowed behind her.  Beau was paying the most attention to the hard curves of Yasha’s arm muscles.

The swing came fast, a spring releasing all it’s energy in a hard-swooping curve.  But it swung through nothing.  Beau was already behind her and Yasha shuddered into a flurry of dull thuds that hit her lower back.  Her elbow snapped back and she heard a brittle crack behind her as Beau flew backwards.

Yasha spun on her heals, raising her arms above her head, ready to deliver a blow to Beau’s prone figure.  But Beau was on her feet, a few yards away, nose at an angle, blood gushing over a mischievous grin.

“Pretty good.  Pretty good.  First blood, huh?”  She raised her fists, “You got any staying power?”

Yasha roared, thunderous and primal, and rushed Beau, her long, thick legs, closing the distance in only two strides.  Her fists were battering rams, but, again, Beau wasn’t where she was supposed to be.

From Yasha’s back, her legs wrapped around her torso and arms wrapped around her neck, Beau said, “I told you I was too quick for you.  You have to—”

Beau didn’t finish her sentence because Yasha reached up and, gripping hands around Beau’s shoulders, tore Beau from her back and tossed her.

Instead of spinning across the sandy field, Beau flipped and landed not far away and immediately rushed Yasha, Beau’s arms and feet moving quicker than Yasha’s eyes could take them in.  Yasha felt the sting of impact on her side.  Before she knew it a swift pump of a leg to her knee sent her to the ground, only for another fist, coiled with energy, to pop into her jaw.  Her head jerked to the side.

In an instant, Beau was moving again, little blows all over Yasha’s arms, torso, and face.  The blood was pounding in Yasha’s ears and just under that rhythm she could make out a complementary rhythm in the movement of Beau’s feet, drumming the ground.  As her body was pummeled from every side, Yasha reached back with one arm, listened to the rhythm, and let go.

Beau flew about four yards from the impact alone and her limp body tumbled another yard before stopping.

Yasha stood up, gritting her teeth at the dull aches throughout her body, and brushed the gritty sand off her dirty enough clothes.  Beau still hadn’t moved.  She walked over.

“Come on,” She kicked halfheartedly at the prone figure, “Get up.  Maybe we can get a drink.”

Beau didn’t move.

Yasha, prodded her a few more times with her foot.

In a flash, Beau was moving again, her legs weaving through Yasha’s.  Yasha felt herself twisting, felt Beau gripping her shirt.

And then Beau was on top of her, a few drops of blood spattering on Yasha’s face.

They stared at each other like that, Beau grinning, Yasha trying to ignore the rush she got from Beau’s grip at her chest.

“Hey,” said Beau, “Why don’t we grab a drink and see if we can find anything else fun to do together?”


End file.
